


The Price

by NinjaSpaz



Series: Twitter Fics and Drabbles [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Deal with a Devil, M/M, twitter drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:40:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23899150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NinjaSpaz/pseuds/NinjaSpaz
Summary: Akaashi remembers the stories. As he ventures towards the unknown, he desperately hopes they are true.Or: Akaashi makes a deal, not caring about the cost.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Series: Twitter Fics and Drabbles [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1701859
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37





	The Price

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write more BokuAka so I did that OTP prompt generator thing and freeestyled this surreal little tale on Twitter at like 3am on Saturday because time has lost all meaning. I cleaned it up and even added a little extra scene just for ao3. Enjoy!

Akaashi takes a long, steadying breath at the threshold. One more step, one foot in front of the other, will take him into a place only fools dare to enter.

Akaashi is not a fool, but the weight on his shoulders makes him desperate. He braces himself, and crosses over.

It's like walking through mist, he thinks, as the golden light of late afternoon shifts abruptly, chilling him to his bones. For a moment, everything is only shades of grey. He presses forward, knowing that if he slows or turns around, he will become lost.

One step.

Two.

Three steps.

A fourth.

His chest tightens as panic rises in him. How much farther? Time was already against him. He needs to break through. He can feel the cold wrapping itself around his legs, his arms, his throat.

Another step.

A gasp rips from his chest as he steps into the glade. The air is crisp and sweet, like spring in the mountains. There is nothing of the oppressive summer heat in this place, nothing of the world as he knows it at all. He found it.

The disorienting grey of the passage dissipated to the blues and purples of twilight. The trees and flowers are awash with starlight, their greens and reds and yellows shining stark against the surrounding black. It would be a beautiful sight under different circumstances.

He shifts his burden higher on his back and ventures deeper into the magical place. If the stories were true, there would be an old tree at the center. Akaashi isn't one for praying - if he was he wouldn't be _here_ \- but a small voice in his head offers up a prayer anyway.

Whether it was heard, or he simply has luck on his side, he finds the tree at the end of an unmarked path. It doesn't actually look any different from any of the other trees in the glade, but when he sees it, he _knows_. It just has a presence that feels older than the rest.

The stories called for an offering, next. Gently, tenderly, he sets his burden in the lush, vibrant green. He fishes the honeyed cake from a pocket and sets it at the base of the old tree. He claps his hands together, closes his eyes, and whispers, "Please." His heart hammers the passage of time against his ribcage. Sweat pricks his brow, his neck, his hands. His jaw begins to ache as he clenches his teeth, all too conscious of every second that ticks by with every breath that escapes him.

Please.

Please.

_Please_.

A light breeze wicks away the dampness from his skin. It bubbles with laughter and smells of juniper and honey. Akaashi shivers as he becomes aware of a new presence, terrible and foreboding. A voice, deep and lyrical and otherworldly, speaks to him. "And what have we here?"

Akaashi wills himself to pry open one eye. His breath catches in his throat. The stories grossly understated the beauty and terror of the being hovering before him. The words tall, muscular, angelic all come to his mind, but he finds they are meaningless now. His skin is dark like the pre-dawn sky, intricate silver runes cover him head to toe like stars. His pale hair defies gravity, trailing toward the sky like the tail of a comet. In his eyes are galaxies.

Akaashi is almost entranced enough to forget his purpose in coming. He barely manages to pull his eyes to the ground as he bows deep in supplication.

A pleased chuckle rumbles over him from the beautiful monster. "What brings you to my realm, mortal?"

Akaashi swallows. "I come to request a Gift," he proclaims, voice barely wavering.

"Oh?" The air stirs again as the being makes slow circles around him. Akaashi doesn't dare risk a glance. The stories didn't warn against staring, but he fears he'll drown in those eyes if he dares look at them too long. "It has been a very long time since a mortal requested a Gift of me." Long, slender fingers brush beneath his chin, lifting his head to stare into his eyes. The black, sparkling pools in the being's head swirl nauseatingly as he gazes through Akaashi, to his heart.

His lips quirk in an odd smile. "I think the Gift is not for you, though." Akaashi stiffens as the hand slowly pulls away. His eyes follow the being as he glides around behind Akaashi. "The Gift you seek, it is for him, is it not?" Akaashi follows his gaze to the bulky body lying serenely in the grass.

Akaashi feels hot tears prick the corners of his eyes as he nods. Bokuto's breathing is slower now, too slow. Akaashi hopes it's because time moves differently in the glade. Time is against him.

The being leans over Bokuto, frowning at his ashen hair and pallid skin. He casts a pitying look on Akaashi. "He's dying."

Again Akaashi nods. "Please. Can you save him?"

His hands rove over Bokuto's head, his chest, his arms, his legs. Bokuto looks so small beneath him, so still. Akaashi holds his breath as the being straightens back up. "This thing, it can be done." Akaashi's chest prepares to collapse with relief, but the being raises his palm to forestall him. "He can be saved, but a Gift such as this, demands payment."

The stories did say the Gift was not freely given. "I am prepared to pay any cost."

Dark eyes regard him with curiosity. "Many mortals have said that. Few have ever accepted." He turns towards Bokuto. "I think, though, you will do it."

Akaashi watches Bokuto's chest rise and fall slowly, so slowly. "I'll do anything. Please."

"Very well." The being extends his arms out to his sides in a grand gesture. "Your memories are the price you will pay."

Akaashi's heart drops to his stomach. He swallows hard. "What memories?" he asks, though as he stares at Bokuto he is certain he knows the answer.

"To save his life, you must lose all of your memories together."

Akaashi walks past the being to kneel at Bokuto's head. He brushes a lock of hair off Bokuto's face, flinching at the icy temperature of his skin. He is fading fast. Akaashi leans forward and presses his forehead to Bokuto's. "I'm sorry," he whispers. He hopes Bokuto can forgive him for being selfish. He would live without his memories if it meant he could go on living in a world with Bokuto Koutaro in it. The alternative...well, that he couldn't bear.

He sits up and nods at the ethereal being. "I accept the Gift."

"Very well." A long, slender arm reaches towards him, finger extended towards his forehead. Just before it makes contact, it occurs to Akaashi he will have no way of knowing if his plan succeeded.

Darkness overtakes him at the touch, pulling him down, deep into the cold, falling and falling until he begins to wonder if there was ever a time he wasn't falling. The black begins to brighten to soft grey. He gasps as he lands on something soft, his eyes shooting open wide at the familiar sight of his bedroom in the pre-dawn light.

His heart slams against his chest. He is home, safe, in his room. Why should this startle him so? He shakes his head as he gets up to go to the bathroom. He catches his reflection in the mirror and pauses, raising a hand to his cheek. There are tears there. Why is he crying?

His chest clenches painfully and he feels an overwhelming sense of loss. Someone he'd loved in a dream so vivid, and yet he cannot recall their face. Who are they?

He can't help but feel like something is missing, but he won't allow himself to dwell on it for long. He scrubs the tears from his eyes and starts readying himself for the day. As he falls into his usual routine, the lingering grief begins to fade, like the memory of a nightmare banished by the sun. 

~

Akaashi stands at a threshold.

The train doors open to admit new passengers and he crosses over to board. As he settles himself amidst the throng of commuters, he catches a glimpse of a beautiful stranger with strangely familiar golden eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "Akaashi making a deal to Bokuto's life at the cost of all their memories together."
> 
> I'm only a little bit sorry for this. If you liked this, or it made you cry, or you want to salt my fields, drop a kudos, comment, or come yell at me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/anininjaspaz)!


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